Headcase
by bunchafives
Summary: Mordern AU. A volatile relationship comes to an end, officially making Zuko a free man. But the demons of his past will always haunt him. He wills always be damaged goods. He will always mess things up. He will always fear the dark. But they say water has healing properties... and her eyes are the color of the deepest ocean. [eventual Zutara]
1. Tumbling Down

Zuko scratched behind Ren's fluffy golden ears as her tongue lapped at his other hand to help keep him grounded. The panic attack had come on so suddenly he was almost certain that he'd pass out before making it to a safe spot for deep pressure therapy. But, as she always did, Ren led him to a quiet space, pressed into his legs to get him in a sitting position, and sprawled her full weight across his legs. Good girl, he thought, running his hand through her long fur. He closed his eyes, assessing his body. His heart still felt like it was in his throat, but the lightheadedness and heat flashes had completely subsided. He took a deep breath and used both hands to give Ren the praise she deserved, muttering 'what a good girl' as she took her cue to get ready to go. With somewhat shaky legs, Zuko stood up and brushed away any dirt from his dark jeans. He took a moment to get his bearings, giving an appreciative nod at the local library sign before grabbing hold of Ren's guide handle again.

"Yip yip." The loyal golden retriever started walking forward with ease, her side lightly brushing his left leg every few steps. He gave a soft smile when the sun peaked out of the clouds and splayed its warmth across his face. Zuko was grateful for the warmer weather, grateful to get out of his apartment, grateful for the dog that had granted him so much freedom. He no longer felt his heart in his throat as he and his companion walked the familiar route to his favorite tea shop. Just thinking about the spiced tea was making his mouth water.

Only two blocks from the library he had temporarily stopped at, he smiled as the sign for The Jasmine Dragon became visible. The boldly painted green, red, and golden dragon elegantly snaked under the title of the tea shop, sprigs of jasmine flowers and leaves surrounding its detailed scales in an almost three-dimensional painted effect. It was Zuko's light in the dark, one of the few things that brought him comfort when his mind felt hazy and lost. He let go of the guide handle on Ren's harness as he opened the door, allowing her to go in and do her standard checks. She came back a minute later, turned in a circle, and sat patiently inside the doorway. Good girl. Zuko stepped inside and Ren resumed her position in the tight heel next to him. As expected, there was a person at the table directly inside the building, but no other people hidden from his direct line of sight. He patted Ren's head again, thanking his lucky stars for his dog. Zuko assumed his usual spot in the back corner booth, and Ren curled up at the side of the table, out of the way but still watching the surroundings attentively. Opening his messenger bag, his fingers brushed across his work files before freezing on the manila envelope. A deep sigh of relief escaped his lips. It's over. He felt Ren's wet nose nudge his leg, but his brain was busy.

"Nephew!" The booming voice of Uncle Iroh pulled him from his thoughts. A smile played at his lips at the sight of the jovial man, but Zuko felt guilty as he watched his uncle stumble over his greeting. Iroh used to greet his nephew with a hug, and that is what his arms had started to do out of habit before falling to his sides; touch was a fickle thing with Zuko, and his uncle's furrowed brow showed his concern on how he should show his affection toward his only nephew. As ashamed as Zuko felt for making his uncle hold back affections, he couldn't be touched. Not right now, not after the panic attack he had earlier. Instead of wrestling with the awkwardness of the greeting, he gave Ren her release command and let the dog happily run and solicit pets from Iroh. The grin widened on his uncle's face and Zuko knew it was the right choice. "And there is my favorite dog. What a sweet girl you are, Ren." After a few distinct pats to the fluffy golden, Zuko called her back to her post. Iroh glanced up at his nephew and slid onto the booth across from him. With a flick of his wrist, Zuko placed the manila envelope on the table and watched his uncle's eyebrow raise before opening it and reading its contents. A deep sigh of relief escaped Iroh's mouth and the knowing grin was back on his face. The older man stood, ruffled the dark shaggy hair of his nephew, and his booming voice could be heard again. "A round of tea on the house. Today, we celebrate my nephew's freedom and the justice system prevailing!" The handful of customers cheered and lifted their glasses in a mock toast. A smile broke out across Zuko's face as he watched his uncle head back to work.

No more worrying she'd come steal his happiness again. No more worrying she'd show up with her set of knives. No more dodging the things she'd throw. No more being manipulated and taken advantage of. She was answering for her crimes, and he could move on with his life, he thought.

No more abusive wife. No more Mai.

But he knew the damage could never be undone. Not completely.

* * *

**Author's note:** I had this story idea pop into my head and wrote chunks of it randomly, so I'll be piecing the chunks together as I go and (hopefully) it will make a nice cohesive story in the end haha. This story will eventually have more mature plot points that will bump the rating to T (possibly M).

I will try to trigger warn/content warn chapters when applicable. If I don't TW/CW something that you believe should be warned, PLEASE reach out and tell me so I can do so. No harm is meant to come to anyone reading my story.


	2. Hit a Wall

**_This story is inspired by the song Headcase by Kailee Morgue and Hayley Kiyoko (which is inspired by the song Where is My Mind? by Pixies).  
_**

**TW/CW: Brief (not super detailed) mention of abuse, including throwing items and knives. Please stay safe and avoid the first paragraph if this may trigger you in any way.**

* * *

_The lamp crashes into the wall, just missing his head as he ducks and side steps it. The bulb shatters, leaving glass at his feet, and part of him wants to glance to see how much damage the wall sustained. But his racing heart, the hair standing on end along his body, and the sweat dripping down his neck reminds him to stay focused on the woman in front of him. Her small frame and surprisingly calm demeanor wouldn't seem like a problem to the untrained eye, but he knew not to underestimate her. He knew what was coming next before it happened, but all he could do was tense his muscles and wait for it. One of her sharp knives whizzed through the air, closing the small distance between them, and skimmed his right cheek. The burning pain was instant, and he could feel the blood start to trickle. Her knives never missed their target, and he knew he was lucky she decided to spare him. "Pathetic," she spits the word at him as he slides down the wall. "You're _nothing _without me. Don't forget it." She's standing over him now, not looking the slightest bit distressed, and bends down to plant a kiss on his left temple._

Zuko's eyes blink open, the sweat from the nightmare slicking his hair in weird directions and causing his clothes to cling to him. He glances at his alarm clock, the red numbers reading 5:55am, and he lets out a sigh. He feels the remnants of tears on his face as he rubs at his sleep-filled eyes, sitting up and deciding it was best he get ready for the day. Opening his eyes fully, he smiles at the fluffy golden retriever who had sprawled herself across his legs in an effort to calm his nightmare. _Good girl, _he thought, giving Ren a scratch behind the ear. She licks his hand a few times before jumping down and returning to her dog bed, her eyes focused intently on her handler. With a yawn, Zuko lets his feet plop to the floor and his legs trod to the bathroom to start his day.

He didn't flinch as the scalding water relentlessly hit his skin. He didn't flinch when the cloth he used to wash himself rubbed his skin raw. In fact, he had hardly noticed how brutally he was trying to forget the previous night until the water turned ice cold and made his raw skin sting in an entirely new way. He could feel his chest constrict, the freezing water shocking his system, so he shut the water off and opened the shower curtain. He smiles at Ren, who had taken to a sentry-like position outside the bathroom door, before toweling off and finishing getting ready.

_First day back to a normal life. I can do this._

* * *

With coffee in one hand and a stack of papers in the other, Zuko exits the copy room with Ren close by his side. He walks the familiar high school building with ease, nodding at co-workers he passes and flashing a small smile to students. _It's good to be back, _he thinks as he finds the room designated to be his for the year. Aside from furnishings provided by the school, the room was nearly bare, but he knew that would change as the year went on. _10 more minutes, _Zuko thinks while checking his watch. He sets his papers on his desk, giving Ren a command to relax in her designated corner of the room, and takes his spot standing outside his classroom door. He greets students with a smile as they enter the room, silently chuckling at the sleep in their eyes, and he feels more at ease than he has in years. The roar of students in the hallway quiets down, and he takes that as his cue to enter back into the room, closing the door softly behind him. His students fall almost completely quiet as he crosses to the room's front and center spot with a smile.

"Good morning," Zuko says, the slight rasp of his voice making him sound much softer than he appeared. He could tell so by the way several students' shoulders relaxed. "My name is Mr. Lee. I'll be your English teacher for the year." He pulls an empty desk closer to him, sitting on the desktop and letting his feet rest on the attached seat. His coffee (nearly gone at this point) resting casually against his knee as he lets another soft smile play across his face. "What is the most important thing about writing?" He glances around the room, a few hands hesitating and half-raising, and he shakes his head at the class. This was always his favorite lecture, and he made sure it was the first one his students heard from him. It's a lecture that can truly change the way his students react to literature, so it's one he doesn't take lightly. He takes the last sip of his coffee and sets his cup down beside him.

"Truth. Honesty. Realness. Authenticity. Rawness. Every story is worth telling, and it requires that we be painfully honest in a world that wants to silence us." He punctuates each word by making eye contact with every student. "So, in my class? Screw the rules. None of this speaking in turn bullshit. No censorship. No standardized ways of thinking. You are _humans. _You are _unique. _You have stories to tell." He can see that he's caught the attention of most of his students now, the sleep leaving their eyes and their body's perking up to listen. Zuko stands and walks to his desk, grabbing the stack of papers he copied earlier and passing them out. "We'll be doing a lot of reading in this class, but I won't be assigning daily homework. Your job will to be to speak your mind in class when we discuss the reading." With the last paper passed out, he takes a seat back on the desk at the front of the room. "Most importantly, though, you'll have a project due at the end of the year. You'll be writing a story that you want to tell. No subject matter is off limits. The school rules on language and content don't apply to your writing; I expect you to tell the story in its fullness without worrying about censoring it." He pauses, taking in the surprised looks of his first period class. He checks his watch and realizes that class is almost over, and he'll be having this heart to heart with new faces shortly. He can see them staring at the clock, some of them packing their things up. He flashes them one more big smile. "If you'd like to give Ren," he points to the golden retriever, the dog perking up at her name, "a quick pet or scratch behind the ears before you leave, feel free to do so." As if he had planned it to the second, the bell rings. Only one student takes the offer, but it's a start.

_Oh boy, is it a start._

* * *

Zuko casually makes another pot of coffee, pouring the steaming liquid into his cup. _I should really bring a reusable one from home if I'm going to drink this much throughout the day. _He'd forgotten how exhausting teaching can be, how absolutely draining it can be to read the students in a class and try and figure out the best way to get through to them. He takes a shakier breath than he intended, and he can feel Ren lightly pressing herself into his leg as a way of reassurance. He glances down at his loyal sidekick, the dog's eyes so full of love and companionship that Zuko can't help but smile. He turns, fully planning on spending his lunch and planning periods on the comfortable couch. And he would have, had he not caught two other teachers clearly whispering and glancing in (what they presumed to be) a nonchalant way at Zuko and his dog. Gossiping. He can feel his hands clench to fists, knuckles going white in a second of anger. Ren licks his hand then, a sign he needed to grab her guide handle, and she leads him from the room once he does. _So teacher's lounge during planning period is definitely not an option. _Once Ren had led him down a few flights of stairs, he felt calm enough to release the handle and walk on his own. Anger still bubbled in his chest, but it was mostly at the feeling of being pitied by co-workers. His unexpected leave was sure to prompt gossip and questions from his co-workers, and it seemed his boss—his _friend_—had kept her promise to not share his private life. Still, not seeing some of his fellow teachers in nearly two years must have been a shock. _That's what happens when you're trying to divorce an abusive maniac who's turned you into a headcase. _The involuntary thought of Mai made his chest tighten, but Zuko refused to let his brain settle into a flashback. Had he been in a different part of the school, he probably wouldn't have been strong enough to pull himself out. But he was walking the hallway of the South Wing, the location of the art department. His happy place. His fingers traced the even surface of the empty walls, knowing they'd be filled with students' artwork throughout the year. He let a small smile play across his lips and crosses to the other side of the hall, his fingers tracing a mural of the elements: earth on fire, air causing the fire to expand outrageously in some areas and collapse to embers in others, and the ocean healing the earth by settling the flames. His fingers find the signature of the artist and rest there, a wave of calm washing over him.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" The voice behind him startles him, causing him to turn around in a rustling of fabric against the wall. Zuko briefly thanks the gods for his well-trained dog who has moved to block the distance between him and the stranger. His eyes flick down to the owner of the voice, a woman much smaller than he would've expected. Her blue blouse and slacks are covered by a smock apron, meaning she must be the art teacher. He realizes he doesn't recognize her, that the school must have hired her in his absence. _She's pretty, _Zuko thinks, admiring her small but curved figure and her tanned skin. The chocolate waves of her hair are pulled back in a bun with a few pieces escaping to frame her face, a few other pieces falling slightly in her blue eyes. _She has eyes like the ocean. _He realizes he's been staring for too long, the silence deafening his ears and making his skin prickle with nervous expectations.

"Um," he gulps, trying to breathe normally. _Relax, dude, she isn't a threat. _It isn't his reassurance that calms him, but the way her petite figure slinks in a relaxed manner, her hands gently resting against her hips. Her eyes are focused on the mural and not him, which greatly helps him find words. "Yes. Um, yes, it is beautiful." He turns again, his hand shaking a little as it finds its way to the mural again.

"I love the facets of nature captured here," she says, pressing fingers gently at the space near his own. Her fingers trace the uproar of the flames, her body stepping to capture the fullness of it. She steps back to her place beside Zuko, her fingers stopping at the scorched earth. "This part is my favorite," she says, her voice barely a whisper. "The complementary cycle of the elements. Of nature. Fire to air, air to water, water to earth, earth to fire, and back again." Her fingers brush against his, and he pulls back, a blush snaking its way across his cheeks. She takes a deep breath and turns to look up at him, her eyes like two polished dimes meeting the liquid honey of his own.

"Uh, how rude of me," he says, his mouth now dry and his stomach filled with butterflies. Something about her eyes made him feel at home. "My name's Mr. Lee. Er, Zuko," he says, extending a hand to shake hers. "I'm one of the English teachers." She meets his hand with a smile, her small palms surprisingly calloused.

"Katara. Katara Shimizu, art teacher" she says, a boisterous smile firm on her face. "Nice to meet you Zu—" she stops, her round eyes bulging in their sockets. Her eyes find the small signature on the mural they'd been admiring and points a finger at it. "As in _THE_ Zuko Lee?!" Zuko feels the blush creep back across his face, and he rubs a hand across his neck.

"Guilty as charged," he says meekly. Her jaw is slack in shock, and she looks him up and down completely before looking back at the wall, admiring the painting again. She goes to say something else but is stopped by the ringing of a bell. Lunch is over and kids would be in the hall at any moment. She clears her throat and composes herself.

"Well, Mr. Lee," she says, swallowing again. "I'm going to take a raincheck on _that _story." Her eyes flicker to the painting. "But only because I have another class." She starts walking toward the door of her classroom before turning and smiling at him again, and he can feel the butterflies return. "Cute dog, by the way." And just like that, she slinks away, the curve of her hips accentuated by her form-fitting charcoal slacks.

"Yip yip," Zuko says to Ren, although he didn't need to, the fluffy golden following his every step as they turn back down the hallway. _Katara Shimizu, art teacher. _He lets a smile play across his lips as he heads back to his room for his planning period. Maybe today would be a good day after all.

* * *

**Author's Note 1: I apologize deeply for not getting to this story sooner. With work, school, and my own health, it can be incredibly difficult to keep up with writing. And because of my health, I can't always keep to a writing schedule. Even though I can't promise consistent updates, my new year's resolution is to finish this story. I will do my absolute best to update, but it takes time. To help keep my updates more frequent, I may occasionally post shorter chapters than what I (or anyone, really) would like... I will try to keep that to a minimum, but it sometimes helps me to continue writing.  
**

**AN 2: Shimizu (based on my research) is a Japanese last name derived from the words meaning "clean; pure" and "water". It seemed like a fitting last name for Katara.**

**AN 3: As a service dog handler myself, I will always do my best to represent service dogs correctly. Emotional support dogs and therapy dogs ARE NOT SERVICE DOGS and should never be represented as such; all service dog registries (in America) ARE SCAMS and are not legally recognized. In America, a service dog (sometimes called an assistance dog) is a dog that is trained for specific tasks to mitigate their handler's disability and are protected under federal law, the Americans with Disabilities Act (ADA). According to the ADA, a disability is described as a physical or mental impairment or condition that substantially limits one or more major life activity. Some examples of disabilities are blindness, deafness/hard of hearing, traumatic brain injuries, mobility disabilities (like wheelchair users, amputees, etc.), PTSD, depression, anxiety, and more. To be a service dog, the handler MUST have a disability and the dog must know work or task(s) to mitigate their handler's disability. Some examples of tasks may be guiding, alerting the handler to noises, alerting the handler to medical condition (seizures, cardiac, POTS, etc.), counterbalance, non-aggressively blocking the public from getting too close to a handler, crowd control to provide space between a crowd and the handler, medication reminders and retrievals, and many more. Service dogs may be any breed of dog, but they must be task trained, potty trained, non-aggressive, and under control at all times. If you have questions about service dogs in America, feel free to message me (I can link you to resources!).**


	3. So Tired

**_This story is inspired by the song Headcase by Kailee Morgue and Hayley Kiyoko (which is inspired by the song Where is My Mind? by Pixies)._**

* * *

_And the way his hair falls over those honey-sweet eyes. Mercy. _Katara shakes her head with a small smirk. _Get your head out of the gutter, Kat. _She lets out a breathy sigh, trying to get her brain to focus on anything other than the tall, handsome English teacher. That task is definitely easier said than done; after all, they had spent their lunch period together for the last three weeks, enjoying each other's company and the shared love for art and expression. There was still so much they didn't know about one another, but she felt as though she had known him for a lifetime—everything seemed so easy around him. Katara glances at the clock and frowns. _Where is he? _Zuko was always punctual, waiting at the doorway to her classroom as the last of her students left for lunch. So why wasn't he waiting at her door now with his shy grin and fluffy companion? _His world doesn't revolve around you, Kat, suck it up. _She sits down at her desk, taking a deep breath and trying to steady herself. Resting her face in her hands, she can't help but feel like an absolute idiot for thinking they had some special connection. She chastises herself for acting like a naïve schoolgirl. Still, that feeling of dread and embarrassment flutters in her stomach. _What if he noticed I'm interested in him as more than a friend? Would he really avoid me? _The scuff of the door opening interrupts her worry, pulling her head from her hands. There he is in all his fine glory—black slacks fitted well against his trim waist, his deep red shirt with the gold buttons tucked in, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, showing off his broad shoulders and muscular arms. As appealing as his body is, it's always his face that keeps her attention. The way his bone structure is crafted is artwork itself with his high cheekbones and defined jaw. It's easy to see just how symmetrical his face is. Or would be, anyway. _How does someone get a scar like that, anyhow? _

"Sorry I'm late," he lets out in a gruff whisper. _Mercy that raspy voice is going to kill me. _She takes note of Ren next to Zuko, the golden retriever's eyes never wavering from her handler and body posed like a sentry. "I, uh, got held up this morning." Katara can see his uneasiness clearly, the way it manifests as tension in his shoulders and his jaw sporadically clenching and unclenching. And was that a tremor in his hands?

"Hey, don't worry about it." She pulls a water bottle and sandwich from the small refrigerator under her desk. She then opens a desk drawer and rummages for extra strength acetaminophen while saying, "do you mind closing the door and shutting the lights off? I'm fighting a massive migraine right now and it's definitely winning." Finding the medicine, she turns to look at Zuko, frozen and even more tense near the door of her room. _Was it something I said? _Katara thinks about how the sentence may have come off or been interpreted. It seemed innocent enough. But the scar across Zuko's face and the way he jumps and tenses all the time… _Shit, he'd probably feel trapped in a dark, closed off room. _"No pressure or anything!" The words tumble from her mouth and she realizes she sounds like a child, setting a deep blush of embarrassment across her cheeks. Katara clumsily sits at her desk, her eyes locked on her food. She can feel Zuko's eyes burning into her and hear his clothes rustle as he walks. She's surprised as the lights are dimmed—not completely off, but no longer painfully bright. She looks up, her wide eyes meeting his.

"Compromise?" He'd meant to say it assertively, but it came out as a muttered question. He doesn't let himself dwell on it, instead crossing the classroom and pulling up a chair to sit across the desk from her. The dimmed lighting makes her brown skin seem even darker, but her eyes light up like the reflection of the moon on the ocean. It's a calming and unexpected comparison, something Zuko would've never have thought too deeply about before. He scratches Ren's fluffy neck as she settles contentedly near his feet. "Do you, uh, have another bottle of water?" He looks down shyly when she gives him a knowing eye, but she doesn't question his lack of a meal or drink. Instead, she leans down and pulls another water bottle and a handful of granola bars out for him. Zuko raises an eyebrow.

"I always keep some spare food and drinks in here in case a student needs it, you know?" Her voice trails off at the end and she looks down at her lap. Zuko was well aware that, despite their school district being considered well-off and well-funded, an overwhelming majority of the student body lived in poverty and struggled to make ends meet at home. Katara's compassion—keeping food and drinks readily available for students—made a warm feeling swell in him. _She's just so inherently kind. _It wasn't something he was used to. He'd never met inherently kind people growing up, it just wasn't in his family's nature. Or, at least, not in his father's nature. "Zuko?" He shakes the thoughts from his head and focuses back on her face before asking her to repeat herself. "I just asked what held you up this morning. I was a little worried at first when you weren't here at your usual time." A blush creeps up her neck and floods her cheeks and Zuko can't help but smile. _She was worried about me?_

"My uncle's tea shop was vandalized last night, so I stopped by this morning to help him. Didn't realize how much damage had been done." He takes a sip from his bottle, the cool water easing the burning sob begging to be let out. The tea shop had been a disaster. It wasn't uncommon for graffiti or the occasional busted window to happen, but the extent of the destruction that had happened the previous night was astronomical. The entirety of the windows were shattered along with what looked to be most of the dishes. The faux leather of the booths had been torn up, tables busted, and miscellaneous items strewn everywhere. It was something that reminded him too much of his adolescent years. The sudden softness of her hand on his forearm would normally have him jumping out of his skin, but something about her presence and touch comforts him. He can vaguely remember his mother touching his arm in the same way as a child.

"That's terrible," Katara says softly, her fingers brushing gently against his skin. "Does he still need help cleaning up?" Zuko nods, his mouth filled with a large bite of his granola bar. "Mind if I come?" His eyebrows shoot up to his hairline, surprise at her willingness to help a total stranger too sudden to keep the expression from his face.

"You'd really do that?" He asks, gulping down the remnants of his granola bar with a swig of water. Katara nods, her blue eyes filled with an emotion Zuko couldn't place. Her fingers unknowingly traced figure eight patterns on the skin of his forearm, sending little tingles up his spine. "Then, uh, yeah, you can tag along. I planned on stopping by there after school lets out today. Meet me in the North Lot then?" She nods and the bell rings, signaling their lunch period over and the rush of students soon to come to Katara's classroom. Having only eaten one of the granola bars given to him, Zuko pushes the remaining handful back to her. "Save these for your students. They need it a lot more than I do." With that, he and Ren stand, turning the lights up before leaving her classroom to go to his own for his planning period. The tingle where she'd touched him set his entire being ablaze.

* * *

Katara finds Zuko on the sidewalk facing the North Lot, his furry golden companion next to him. It's Ren that acknowledges her presence first, the golden retriever stepping behind Zuko to create a barrier between him and Katara. Seconds later, Zuko turns his head to look at her, a smile breaking across his face. _Mercy, he's handsome. _He gives her a quizzical look after catching a glimpse of the bicycle being wheeled next to her, but the confusion breaks down to another soft smile and shaking his head with a chuckle.

"We can take my car. I have plenty of space," he says, leaning down to attach a leash to Ren's collar before standing upright and giving Katara a nod. As they walk, her hip grazes against his body occasionally, the small contact sending a tingle through her spine. They walk in silence for a few moments across the parking lot until finally stopping next to a silver SUV. Zuko shoves his hand in his pocket, fumbling for moment, before pulling out the keys and popping the trunk open. As the hatch of the trunk lifts up, Katara can see the back row of seats has been lowered to create more space, allowing plenty of room for her bike to slide in next to Ren's dog crate. "Load 'em up," Zuko says clearly, and the sudden action of Ren jumping into the car startles Katara. Zuko lets out a laugh but otherwise focuses on taking Ren's harness and vest off, unceremoniously plopping them on top of her crate. His eyes shift to look at Katara before focusing back on his dog. "You can pet her if you'd like."

Katara isn't sure what she was expecting him to say, but that surely wasn't it. "A-Are you sure?" She doesn't know where her hesitancy is coming from. Perhaps it's because she knows Ren has a job to do. Perhaps it's because the polite thing to do is to not engage the dog. Or maybe it's because petting Ren seemed like celebrating whatever caused Zuko's disability in the first 's stomach twists with the too-familiar pangs of shame, threatening to creep up through her throat and settle as tears in her eyes. Instead, she raises her eyes confidently to look at Zuko. He's still focused on his dog, his fingers spreading through fluffy fur as he scratches Ren's chest.

"Yeah," his raspy voice mumbles. He clears his throat. "She's off duty now, of course you can pet her." Katara takes a moment to prop her bicycle against the bumper of the car before reaching up to run her hands through Ren's wild mane of fur. She's met with furious tail wagging and wet licks of appreciation across whatever skin Ren can reach from her perch in the trunk. Katara lets out a laugh and Zuko can't help but laugh with her. After a few more scratches and pats from Katara, Zuko ushers Ren into her crate. He turns to face Katara fully for the first time since they'd shared lunch and Katara thinks he's going to say something important. Something about the gleam in his eyes gave him away. At the last minute, though, he shyly raises his keys to eye level. "Why don't you hop in and start the car while I load your bike up?" Instead of snatching the keys and sitting shotgun like he thinks she'll do, Zuko instead sees her nose wrinkle in a challenging sort of way as she lifts her bicycle up easily and loads it in. Only somewhat surprised at her choice, Zuko chuckles as he shuts the trunk, the two of them circling around to their respective sides of the car before sliding easily into their seats and latching their buckles.

"So, where is this mysterious tea shop?" Her eyebrow raises in a mock interrogative way, but the upturned edges of her mouth and teasing tone make it clear she's having fun so far. Zuko pulls cautiously onto the road, leaving the school behind them.

"On the way into downtown. A couple blocks away from the library." He rubs the sweat from his hands onto his slacks one at a time. He could feel his nerves getting the best of him. "But, uh, first we have to swing by my apartment to drop off Ren." He shifts uncomfortably in his seat, Katara's silence worrying him. _I should have told her that earlier today. I'm such an idiot. _He clears his throat to apologize and offer to take her home, but she speaks up first.

"That's fine… but don't you need her?" The confusion in her tone is thick and Zuko glances over to check on her. He isn't sure why he thought she'd be cowering in fear at being in a car alone with him, but his stomach settles as he sees her feet propped on the dashboard and her eyes staring out the window. She meets his eyes and her mouth spreads into a wide smile. _Spirits, she's pretty. _He looks back to the road, feeling a flush of embarrassment at getting caught looking at her.

"With all the damage that was done, I'd be worried sick that she'd get hurt. She keeps me safe every day, and it's my responsibility to do the same for her." He clears his throat, the worry of his dog stepping on glass—or worse—brings the threat of tears to his eyes and a tickle of a sob in his throat. "Besides, Uncle knows how to help if I need anything." His Uncle Iroh had been more of a father to him than his own father, had been there for Zuko through the hardest of times. He could always rely on his uncle.

"Do you mind?" Katara asks, pulling Zuko from his thoughts. She's motioning to the windows and the radio and all Zuko can do is smirk and mutter "be my guest" before her long fingers caress the buttons of the radio. A light rock song rushes from the speakers as the windows roll down and Katara's voice joins in harmony to the song. The moment slams fiercely into Zuko's heart. It is so free from the evil of the outside world, so free from the constraints of society, so free of worry and pain and heartbreak. It is so vastly different from any experience Zuko had ever had in his entire life. He tries to commit every sound, every smell, every detail of this moment to memory, a moment of tranquility to hold on to in the dark times. He briefly flashes to how tiring those dark times before letting the thought slip his mind. And then he is swept away by the adrenaline rushing through his veins, lifting his spirits higher, and he lets his slightly off-key voice rise with it.

_It feels good to not be so tired all of the time._

* * *

**Author's Note 1: Thank you all for being so patient with me. I know my upload schedule isn't consistent AT ALL, but I hope to be a bit more consistent as I continue on with this story (and yes, I fully intend to finish this story, even if it's the death of me lmao)**

**Author's Note 2: Though the main inspiration for this story comes from the song Headcase by Kailee Morgue, her music as a whole plays into (or will play into) this story. I highly suggest checking out her music to get a feel for what this story is about and is trying to channel.**


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